


Unseated

by Jabber_Moose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:32:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jabber_Moose/pseuds/Jabber_Moose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur's competitive nature during a storm results in consequences for Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unseated

It started with a clap of thunder.

Arthur had expected a little bit of rain when he and Merlin had rode out for a hunt, leaving the knights behind, much to Uther’s chagrin, but the weather had held out for long enough.

In all actuality, the only storm that seemed evident was crossed over Merlin’s expression, eyes narrowed and making his ‘I told you so,’ message abundantly clear.

Granted, Merlin had fussed incessantly about the oncoming rain, but Arthur had ignored him. All in all, it was just another day in the life of Arthur and his idiot manservant.

So, come to think of it, the story didn’t technically start with a clap of thunder, but with the ride out.

Arthur’s story, however, narrowed down to that singular moment, when Merlin had pulled his horse up beside his, chatting amiably about everything and nothing, and Arthur was content to let their horses move at their own pace, reins lax between his fingertips.

Arthur had grinned at Merlin, boyish and suddenly competitive, and urged his horse into a canter through the field, ignoring Merlin’s muffled complaint, when the thunder clapped over head.

He had turned, just briefly, to assess his obvious lead in the impromptu race, to see Merlin’s normally docile mare rear at the sudden noise, eyes wide, nostrils flaring, hooves striking as though at some unseen beast. Merlin, despite his clumsiness, usually had an unnatural ability to stay seated in the saddle, so Arthur’s breath caught in his throat went Merlin was flung off his mount like a ragdoll, landing on the ground with an unnatural thud that echoed to Arthur’s own ears.

For a solitary moment, Arthur’s vision had zeroed in on his manservant, lying unmoving on the ground while his mare fled for the safety of the castle. When the dull roar in Arthur’s ears cleared, he knocked his heels into his stallion’s flanks, and spurred the horse toward Merlin’s prone form. Before the horse had even halted, Arthur dismounted in a swift, single movement, and was at Merlin’s side.

Merlin was too still, and the silence Arthur once thought he’d revel in weighed like a stone in his chest. The rain had finally begun to fall in earnest, and after a cursory exam, Arthur found no broken bones, and several minor scrapes that could easily be managed. He took into account that they now had one horse to travel on, and Arthur was grateful for it, moving with almost clinical precision to gather Merlin close to transport him onto Arthur’s own horse.

It was then that Merlin’s eyes opened, glazed with a pain that Arthur had yet to see on Merlin’s face, an expression he found he never wanted to see again.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak- of course he would. Merlin would never pass up a chance to open his big mouth- but all that came out was a strangled cry of utter agony.

It froze Arthur to his bones. He couldn’t see an injury, and if there was a possibility that Merlin was hurt inwardly, Arthur had no way of knowing.

He just hurt Merlin even more.

“Arthur,” Merlin managed, and Arthur suddenly felt every bit the prat Merlin accused him of being when something loosened in his chest, the sound of his own name being the first from Merlin’s lips.

“You idiot,” Arthur replied, with feeling, although he was relatively sure he meant to say, ‘are you alright?’ or ‘you scared the life out of me.’

And Merlin, bumbling, insolent, idiotic, selfless and suicidally brave Merlin just looked at him through pain glossed blue eyes, like he heard everything Arthur meant to say, and smiled.

“No chance this gets me out of hard labor?” his friend rasped, and Arthur was filled with the sudden need to either thrash the living daylights out of him, or kiss him.

Both were intriguing prospects.

Instead, he settled for easing Merlin onto his horse, half-heartedly chastising the protests and moans of pain Merlin emitted, and swung up behind him, securing an arm around Merlin, steady and stable, and eased his horse into the smoothest walk manageable.

If halfway through the ride Arthur’s riding cloak was fastened around the form of his manservant, or Merlin’s body listed too comfortably against Arthur’s chest, dark hair a near constant brush against Arthur’s lips, neither of them said a word.

And if upon arriving at Camelot, Gaius’ services to his apprentice were waived by the Crowned Prince, who dedicated the night to Merlin’s comfort and healing, well…that was nobody’s story to tell.

And if (and this was quite the longshot) as Arthur was Crowned Prince of Camelot, a storm happened to break over the kingdom, and a clap of thunder shook the foundation of the castle, there were only two bodies in Arthur’s bed to witness how Arthur clutched his companion that much closer, and murmured the words he dared not speak the day of Merlin’s fall, soft and private against a warm, pale neck.

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally from 2011 here](http://galauvant.tumblr.com/post/10107499252/um-this-is-for-kavita-because-i-said-so-okay)


End file.
